


Dopamine

by kevinrunsfree



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Suicide (Only By Reader Interpretation), Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kevinrunsfree/pseuds/kevinrunsfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cecil was upset, Carlos was always there to comfort him. But Cecil never saw Carlos upset, and Cecil never had the chance to comfort Carlos. Not until it was too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dopamine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miirkaelisaar](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Miirkaelisaar).



When Cecil was upset, Carlos was always there to comfort him.

It started out as small things, tiny things that Cecil could deal with on his own but Carlos was happy to offer his support with: Steve Carlsberg had called the station with another complaint, Station Management yet again refused his request for a new coffee maker, his favourite café had exploded into a fiery ball of silverware, stainless steel, and void.

But as time went on, and their relationship grew bit by bit, Cecil began to open himself up to the dark haired scientist. He told him about his fears of not having his true form accepted, even in the eerie town of Night Vale. He texted him at 3 in the morning, worried over how his latest interview with Mayor Pamela would go. He confessed how despite his lack of involvement, he felt guilty for Earl Harlan’s death at the hands of his mute Boy Scout troop as he thought that just maybe if things hadn’t ended so badly, if he and Earl hadn’t had such a shaky break up, the incident could have been avoided…

And Carlos always knew just what to say.

When Donald, an upper-class prick from Carlos’ team of scientists had gone off on Cecil, the cephalopod had lost it. The snooty snob accused Cecil of dating Carlos just to lull him into a false sense of security in order to devour him as a meal because after all, in Donald’s words “It figures the only thing that would take Carlos would be some sort of monster.” And then, to top it all off, he not only called Carlos _unattractive,_ no, he went and described his lovely luscious locks as _“a piss-poor excuse for hair”._

And after nearly having strangled the uppercrust ass to death, he was left sobbing smoke in Carlos’ arms, crying that he _was_ a monster, that he nearly just _killed_ some stupid man over the idiotic things he was saying, and oh _Carlos_ , he was just so _awful!_

But Carlos didn’t recoil in horror at the damage Cecil had done to one of his top scientists. He didn’t leave Cecil to cry alone, appalled by the radio host’s actions. He listened carefully to Cecil’s explanations, patiently waited through sobs to hear the full details of Donald’s insults, and finally pulled Cecil back, his deep brown eyes staring into the Voice of Night Vale’s soul and his caramel, oaky voice saying confidently

“Well, it seems like he was more the monster, don't you think?”

And that was all Cecil needed to hear to calm down, relieved to realize Carlos didn’t hate him, that he understood and didn’t blame Cecil, that he trusted his side of the story whole-heartedly without even confirming it with Donald. That he was more worried about Cecil’s wellbeing than that of his coworker who had moments ago been turning blue in Cecil’s tentacles.

But Cecil couldn’t be completely certain of the last piece, for Carlos never actually spoke of his worries. He spoke of fear for Night Vale and its citizens, yes, but never the very deep, very personal problems of Perfect Carlos.

And maybe if Cecil had paid more attention, he would have noticed the way Carlos self-consciously ran a hand through his hair at the mention of Donald’s slander of the thick brown locks. Or the way he looked down at his body in disbelief when Cecil called him perfect. Or the brief disappearance of his smile each time Cecil’s parents were brought up, and the soft murmur of “That must be nice.” when Cecil explained that he’d never seen them before, no one in Night Vale was really sure if they even had parents. Or his coolly calculated look of a scientist morphing into the anxious, forlorn gaze of a lost little boy whenever Carlos thought Cecil wasn’t looking, when Cecil was engrossed in passionate anger at Steve Carlsberg or in the middle of a rant about what Hiram McDaniels could do for the community if he were elected.

And maybe if Cecil had paid more attention, he would have foreseen that when Carlos stepped out of Cecil’s car after a date night at Big Rico’s and gently pressed a kiss to where his third eye would usually manifest, that his gently whispered _“Goodbye, Cecil.”_ was not the spoken the same as his usual  _“See you soon.”_

And then, maybe, just maybe, Cecil could have stopped Carlos from leaving his life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you really enjoy WTNV, or want to request a fic, you should check out my blog at ruja4eva.tumblr.com!


End file.
